


it's my party and i'll ignore my murder boyfriend if i want to

by skywalkerz



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Domestic Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Sassy Will Graham, Someone Help Will Graham, sex mention, will is a fussy baby and he knows it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26023030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywalkerz/pseuds/skywalkerz
Summary: Will holds a grudge.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 11
Kudos: 167





	it's my party and i'll ignore my murder boyfriend if i want to

**Author's Note:**

> like. nothing special. but will graham is a diva and hannibal lecter is whipped. we been knew tho

_Monday. 11:18 AM. Somewhere in hiding._

* * *

"Um, I was going to wash that?" Will ends his phrase in a question, standing uselessly in the kitchen, hands now empty, as Hannibal steals his plate and utensils to bring to the sink.

"And now, I am." Hannibal says simply, back to Will. 

Will sweeps a few curls off his forehead in frustration, crossing his arms sassily at the man in front of him. Regardless of if Hannibal can see Will or not, the action itself speaks volumes, Will wants to assume. 

"Why can't I wash my own dishes?" And to be fair, it's not really something Will should get pissy about, especially not after Hannibal cooked brunch for the two of them. But still, he cannot help the annoyance that creeps up the back of his neck, settling back down into his sternum, tight in his chest. 

Hannibal's allowed to take care of Will, sure, of course. But so much leads to Will feeling helpless, drained, and overall futile. 

Hannibal clicks a tongue at Will in response.

"I'm being serious." Will snaps, feeling his shoulders go tense. He has always been a hothead - always with his dad, in school, with Jack - it's his autopilot, frankly. So, Hannibal treating him like the same fragile teacup he never wanted to be is irksome. 

Hannibal dries his hands on the rag lying next to the sink and turns, leaning against the counter. He has an amused expression on his face, and it only adds fuel to Will's fire.

"Must it be a crime to take care of you?" Hannibal asks, innocent and kind, smirk playing on his lips. Will's scowl doesn't budge, trying to pierce his stare into Hannibal, trying to make him give Will whatever he wants. 

"I would like to wash a damn dish here and there, yeah." Will snips back, rolling his eyes, hands settling onto his hips in a dramatic fashion. 

"Nonsense." Hannibal says simply, pushing himself off of the counter. "I enjoy tending to you. Why strip me of the things I adore?" Hannibal asks, attempting to gently take one of Will's hands. He pulls it away, quick and cruel. 

"I don't want you to find newer ways to manipulate me."

"And washing your dishes, that would lead to the manipulation of you?" 

"I don't want you to turn me into someone who can't take care of themselves, Hannibal!" And oh, he's shouting, and Will doesn't think he's ever actually yelled at him before. Not even when Hannibal was taking advantage of WIll's encephalitis and inducing seizures, and that actually warranted some damn yelling. 

"Will -"

"Why is to so hard for you to let me be my own person?" Will almost pleads, hands practically flying in the hair, coming to then run through his curls. 

"If you really want to wash your own -"

"Enough about the dishes! it's more than the dishes! It's the constant spoiling, always cooking for me, and cleaning, and taking me to bed when I'm a little tipsy, and walking the dogs when I don't even ask you - I just -" Will heaves out a heavy sigh he had been keeping contained, hostage. His chest hurts at all the accusations he wants to make. 

"Did it ever occur to you I perhaps might do those things out of adoration rather than desire for power over you?" 

Will bites his bottom lip, subtly, he really should just stop talking.

"Until we die, you'd put power over love. Your track record with me says so." Will mumbles, not sure if he really believes himself. But he doesn't have to be entirely sure right now. He just needs Hannibal to know he's serious.

But when Will's walking away, and Hannibal doesn't make a move to stop him, all he can really think is, _yikes, Will._

* * *

_Tuesday. 10:03 AM._

* * *

Will can hold a grudge. Is he in the wrong? He doesn't really give a damn - He's still pissed at Hannibal for his own reasons, and therefore, finds no desire to engage in communication with the man. 

Second day around though, he does feel bad. Last night, Will stuck to his side of the bed, never moving or migrating towards Hannibal's side. He remained stiff, ensuring he didn't drift, and ultimately woke up with a crick in his back and his neck feeling broken. Hannibal had made breakfast, leaving some out for Will, even. But they didn't eat together, didn't share grins over coffee cups as per usual. Hannibal had just taken his food out onto the deck without a word, as Will shuffled into the kitchen, resembling a zombie.

Will must admit, he missed Hannibal having coffee out, all ready for him with the tiniest bit of sugar. He missed having his shoulders rubbed after eating, his cheeks and pulse points kissed. As Will eats alone, he contemplates apologizing, contemplates initiating sex to make all of this go away. And then, he eyes the sink, eyes his used dishes, and finds the rage engulfing him yet again. 

He sighs when the dishes clink together in the sink. 

* * *

_Wednesday. 6:11 PM._

* * *

Waking up with a half-scream, half-whimper, while shaking and sweating on the couch perplexes Will at first. His breath comes out stuttering and gasping as he eyes the room, noting the sun beginning to set. Yep, he must have crashed out here, in his desire to continue ignoring Hannibal, for reasons he is kind of forgetting. 

His chest heaves as he hears footsteps, and they sound eager to get to him.

"Will?" Of course he's got to sound worried like that, all compassionate and desperate like this is the perfect excuse to engage with Will again. Whatever.

He grunts in response, brushing sweaty curls off of his forehead, and not even thinking before stripping off his damp t-shirt, letting it fall onto the ground.

Hannibal kneels beside the couch, almost with doubt, unsure of his actions.

"You have a nightmare?" He questions, and Will can see his palm come out, just briefly, as if he wants to touch Will's cheek. He pulls back, however, believing Will hasn't noticed the action.

"I'm fine."

"You haven't had a nightmare in months."

"What, do you have surveillance cameras on me, too? Just consistently observing my sleep patterns and behaviors?" Will snaps, irritable and head pounding from his episode. And truthfully, there is no god damn reason for Hannibal to _not_ know how Will sleeps; they sleep in the same bed every single night. Of course Hannibal would know if Will had a bad dream. But that's irrelevant to Will at this exact time, and the goal is to not buy into Hannibal's garbage. Will again almost forgets why he's so angry. 

And when Hannibal reaches for Will anyways, despite his rude and arrogant tone and attitude, Will remembers why. He clumsily shoves his way off of the couch, wondering why Hannibal even bothers with him sometimes. Will wonders if he really will be murdered if he keeps his little grudge up.

* * *

_Thursday. 9:44 PM._

* * *

"Will, please just get in the fucking bed."

And the use of the cuss word has Will's eyebrows to his hairline.

"Who _are_ you?"

"I forbid you to sleep on this couch tonight."

"Some would call that control. Power, even, maybe."

"Will. Please. I won't touch you, just please sleep in bed. If it troubles you so much, I will sleep on the couch myself." Hannibal bargains.

"I do okay out here. I don't need you to coddle me every chance ya get, ya know." Will fixes a sheet he's tucked onto the couch, and throws a pillow down. 

"I have never in my life found it bothersome to take care of you, Will. You have always been my top priority, shining and exquisite. I wish you would allow yourself to see that."

"See what, Hannibal? That I'm easy to tuck right under your thumb? That I will always be a pawn with you?" Will's back is turned, fumbling mindlessly with an old comforter he had smoothed out onto the couch. 

"That I love you, I always have. I wish you'd allow yourself to be loved, cherished. I regret my past self. I wish, from the beginning, I could have showed you how easily adored you are by me. Effortlessly, I find ways to cherish you. I do apologize if it came off as manipulative." Hannibal finishes, quietly. 

Then, he's gently trying to take the comforter out of Will's hands, who is now standing there, eyes rimmed with regret and mouth parted slightly. 

"I'll sleep here, Will. Please." He gives the comforter one more soft tug, and Will releases. He watches Will swallow, hard. Will thinks he might say something, thinks he might say something sappy and disgusting and pathetic. So he swallows it down instead. 

Hannibal tucks himself on the couch, comforter wrapped tightly around his shoulders as he turns away from Will, who clenches his fists together to stop himself from feeling too much.

"Goodnight, sweet boy."

The nickname feels like acid on his skin.

* * *

_Friday. 1:13 AM._

* * *

"Han," Will shakes the sleeping form slightly, but still too aggressive to be considered thoughtful.

"Hmph," the body groans.

"Hannibal, c'mon," Will shakes a little more. "I'm done bein' pissy at you, or whatever. I guess you love me. Get up," Will says, finding a balance between hastiness and gentle sarcasm. 

"Wha - Will?"

"No. Jack Crawford. You're arrested because I don't like any of your ties, and your desserts are always disappointing."

The body groans again. 

"C'mon, Han. I'm sorry, okay? Did you need to hear that? God, for someone so put together, you really are a mess at this hour, huh," Will notes, wiggling a finger into Hannibal's side. Hannibal practically jolts off of the couch, hair mussed and eyes bleary. The glare he gives Will shouldn't be as hysterical as it is.

"I'm sorry," Will purrs, inching himself into Hannibal's lap. "Can we kiss and make up now?"

"I'm not moving from this couch, Will, so you can sleep alone, or feel perfectly free to join me right here." Hannibal says firmly, voice ragged with sleep. Nevertheless, he does kiss Will, letting a hand come up to cradle his head, utilizing his other arm to wrap securely around Will's waist as he straddles him. 

"You really that old?" Will smirks.

Hannibal shakes his head, defeated as per usual when it comes to arguing with Will. 

But Will doesn't complain anymore as he snuggles back under the comforter with Hannibal, gluing himself tightly to the other form, wrapping himself like a python around Hannibal's body. 

When Hannibal begins to card his fingers through Will's hair, Will hums happily. 

"I'm sorry, Will. For not being clearer with my admiration of you. I'm sorry you took it in a negative way." Hannibal whispers.

"I'm sorry for being a drama queen, I guess."

"You guess?" Hannibal quips, amused all the same.

"Okay, whatever, I guess I have a history of holding grudges. Sue me." Will retorts, finding himself biting down a little too hard on Hannibal's throat. 

"We'll have to do something about that. Terrible habit, you must be aware of that." Hannibal whimpers slightly as Will sucks a hickey onto his neck.

"You could just screw it out of me." Will suggests.

"Mmm. Morning." Hannibal murmurs, pulling Will closer to him, where his head falls softly onto Hannibal's chest.

"You. Are. Old." Will teases, but his voice is plagued with exhaustion, as he smiles for just a moment, until sleep captures him. 


End file.
